I Don't Wanna
by kingfisherwings
Summary: Drew decides the only way Wade will come back from his return to pit-fighting with his soul intact is if someone goes in and brings him home. How far will he go to have what he wants? Begins just after Wade's arm injury.
1. Chapter 1

_I ain't here to hold you when you cry  
I ain't here to hold your shaking hand  
I ain't here to look you in the eye  
Or beg for you to understand_

_How could you?_ was the dominant thought in Drew's mind. It annoyed him. That was in just about any situation he could ever imagine the stupidest question possible to ask Wade. The problem was that this situation was one of the rare exceptions to that rule, or at least Drew had thought it was.

It was always a bit of a crapshoot whether Wade was speaking to him or not. Months of silence, a flurry of contact, months of silence was the pattern that had prevailed since...well, _since_. He'd tried to avoid putting a name to that night from the moment it happened - and that was one of their chief problems, he supposed. But if ever he had to make the effort, it was now.

He'd said after the injury that he was going home for a while. That was hardly a surprise. That he'd left Chandra behind was.

_What were you thinking?_ He wasn't really expecting an answer to that, but who could say? For all his own reputation, Wade was the one who wasn't especially predictable.

_What do you mean?_

_You LEFT her. Here with everyone who ever hated you just grinning and drooling over it._

_I rather thought you'd look out for her._

_You rather thought fucking wrong. Did you even consider ASKING me? Or her?_

_Are you saying you won't?_

_I'm saying she won't have a thing to do with me, Wade. She's frightened witless of me, just like of everyone else round here right now._

_Why would she be?_

_She trusted one person in all the world, and you just left her here to drown or be eaten by the sharks, whichever is first. She thinks I'm one of the sharks, man._

_I didn't intend that to happen. She can't be with me where I'm going. It would destroy her. Find a way to take care of this. It's not as if I don't know that you want to._

There was that, wasn't there? He'd wanted a second chance with her in the worst way, pretty much from the moment he'd managed to fuck up the first one. Not that he was going to shoulder _all_ the blame for that. Slater had more than a fistfight to answer for; Drew didn't think Slater was aware just how much he knew about that.

But first things first: He had a lovely and petrified young woman to convince he wasn't the devil.

He missed the plane by 20 minutes. The ticket agent looked sympathetic, but that didn't turn the bloody thing around, did it?

It was surely for the best, for Chandra at least. Drew was fairly certain Orton and Cena hadn't agreed on anything in five years, but they'd both looked thoroughly happy to find the girl abandoned by her only remaining protector. They were far from the only ones, but surely the most dangerous ones. Away was a good place for her to be. Maybe not so much for him, but that could hardly be her first concern right now.

_Or her fiftieth_, he thought with a sigh. _Somehow I've missed my chance yet again._ He bombed out on getting Wade to tell him where she came from, too. It just wasn't his day.

* * *

_Two Years Earlier_

It hadn't been his day. Hell, it hadn't much been his month. Drew decided what he wanted, in the immediate at least, was a beer. And he wanted it somewhere he could be alone to drink it in peace.

He knew he hadn't ingratiated himself to anyone behaving as he'd been, but when had he ever worried about that? Least of all with the man running the whole kit standing behind him? He'd not counted on fucking Nexus taking out the boss. Who had? _Thank you endlessly, Wade._

And hadn't one of his oldest friends warned him? Oldest enemies, too. _If ya burn all the bridges, you'd better know how to swim._ He could hear Sheamus as if he were standing right there in front of him.

_Further proof there's too much blood in my alcohol stream. _The bar he finally chose was four miles from the hotel, further than anyone was likely to be bothered to walk to go to a dive.

Or almost anyone. He was startled beyond words to find Chandra Stevens sitting at a table in the back of the place...and slack-jawed that she was apparently there alone, not a Nexus crony in sight. She'd be more than fair compensation for all the inconvenience they'd caused him, wouldn't she? Never mind that Wade was surely going at her every way but upside-down; _he'd_ bloody well be in his place.

She didn't look overly alarmed to find him standing there, though she'd had to come back a long way from wherever she'd gone mentally before she noticed. "You probably shouldn't be here."

"I don't see any of your attack dogs about."

"That doesn't mean no one's watching."

Which would have sounded a bit foil-hat if she hadn't been so matter-of-fact about it. "So you'd rather I not sit here and have my beer looking at a far more pleasant sight than that pool game over there?"

She looked; he knew she would. The timing couldn't have been better - or worse, he supposed. She turned just in time to be greeted with some large, hairy biker's builder's bum as he bent over the table. She clapped a hand over her mouth and turned back promptly.

"Save me from a fate worse than death?"

She smiled. "Your funeral. Have a seat."

Looking at her really was about all he did for the first 15 minutes. She was clearly not inclined to talk. "Is there something wrong, lass?"

She looked surprised now, but shook her head and went back to turning whatever wasn't wrong over and over in her mind.

When she was finally done with it to her satisfaction - or as much as she could manage, at least - she turned to him with a wry smile. "I'm sorry I'm such lousy company. I've...got things on my mind."

"All those things that aren't wrong?"

"Yeah, well, there's not much anyone can do about it. That's the profound insight I've had after sitting here for three hours. I should go."

"Stay a bit? What harm can it do after so long?"

He wasn't sure what surprised him more: That she stayed, or that she got steadily more drunk in spite of his being right there watching it all.

_In spite of, or because of?_ There was one way to find out.

She responded when he kissed her, not in a wanton way, but as if she'd been waiting for him to do it. He did it again, and her hand slid tentatively along his jawline as she returned it again.

The table was in a dark corner, and no one would probably have given a damn if they'd climbed up on the thing and gone at it, not in this place. He had a hand well up her skirt and his tongue well into her mouth when she jolted back with a cry that was unmistakably of pain. She nearly overbalanced her chair; he steadied it before she could.

"Lass, what is it?"

"Nothing. I have to go. I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."

He grabbed her arm. Something had just gone very wrong, and he wanted to know why. "Did I hurt you?"

She hesitated, but finally shook her head. "I have to go, Drew. I shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not? You're a grown woman. You can do as you please."

She shook her head again. "It isn't that simple."

She'd been fussing with the hem of her skirt since she'd jumped back, and she was doing it again now. It gave him a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Let me see, lass."

"No. No, there's nothing for you to see."

Which wasn't quite the same as there being nothing at all to see, was it? He pushed her hand out of the way and slid the skirt up her thigh. He had to push it to the legband of her panties, but he saw. "Who _did_ this to you, lass?"

She was more or less a solid bruise along the insides of both thighs. It was too dark to be certain, but he thought there was a bite mark on one of them - a deep one.

"I...didn't think anyone would ask."

"Because they'd assume it was Wade, aye? I don't. I know him, remember?" He knew the man more than well enough to know this wasn't his handiwork. He could be an utter bastard, but not like this. Not to a woman, not ever. Drew could sooner see the man cut his own hand off. "You've not told anyone, have you? Because you thought he'd be blamed?"

She nodded, then shook her head, eyes confused. He got the point. "And you've not told Wade, either, have you?"

"No."

Which was as good as saying it was someone else in Nexus, wasn't it? "You need help, lass. I'll give it if you'll take it. If you want to tell Wade about this, I'll bring you there to him."

She shook her head fiercely.

"Do you want away from them, then?"

There were tears in her eyes, but she nodded. "Yes. I can't any more. No more of this."

"Then I'll get you away. I'll see you on a plane come morning." There was something in her eyes that troubled him. "Is there more? Have it all out, lass, be done with it."

She looked at him, eyes glittering with tears, but steady. He let her seek out whatever it was she was looking for. Finally, she glanced around to see if anyone was looking, then pulled the neckline of her shirt and one cup of her bra down. Just above where the cream of her skin began to darken was a bite mark there was no mistaking.

"Fucking _bastard_. And there's another on the other side, aye?"

She nodded again.

That did it. He was going to get her to his room where none of them would find her, and put her on the first plane to anywhere on the planet she was inclined to see.

He got her as far as his room - the door of it, to be exact. That was when Slater, howling with rage, jumped him from behind.

He was never certain what happened in the next few minutes; it was all a blur to him. Wade hauled a screaming, cursing Slater off him; someone else pulled a vanishing act with Chandra in the meantime; there was a lot of yelling; finally everyone went off to their separate corners without a word asked of or said to him about what happened.

He didn't see her again before they bounced him across to Smackdown. He did get a note the second day, left at the desk of the hotel for him in a sealed envelope.

_It's all right now. I'll be safe. Don't buy yourself more trouble on my account. But thank you for caring._

It was the last time he'd see her more than in passing for two years.


	2. Chapter 2

_I ain't gonna walk you through your dreams  
Walk you through this life that we all know  
I ain't here to listen while you speak  
I ain't here to heal your broken soul  
Am I here at all?_

It took Drew almost two weeks to tip to it; he'd had a lot on his mind.

_She can't be with me where I'm going. It would destroy her._

He didn't think Lancashire was going to destroy anyone. _Fuck, Wade, what are you doing?_ He already had a pretty good idea what, though. It wasn't an idea that made him happy.

_Are you fighting again?_

_No. I'm not healed enough for that._

_Which is to say you mean to._

_Yes, I do. Like to come watch? It would be like old times._ Wade laughed softly when Drew didn't answer for well over ten minutes. _He never told you I turned up looking for you the next day, did he?_

_You what?_

* * *

_Ten Years Earlier_

Wade had no idea how old the Scot with the wise mouth was, but he thought "not very" would cover it fairly well. He'd not grown into himself yet - tall, just shy of skinny, but broad-shouldered in a way that said he'd be a beast one day if there was enough food in the world to fill him out.

What he was doing here was anyone's guess. Probably a student slumming and betting like the rest. He was managing to balance off that sharp tongue with an outrageously dimpled smile that said he was swinging the world by its tail.

Wade had won his fight easily tonight, and he was still wired, enough so that he'd been considering the women who hung around the fights. He'd not been considering them much, though; he might just as well break into a lab at uni and inject himself with a disease. Now there was this to consider, wasn't there?

Men rarely captured his attention; the last one had been well over two years ago. But this one had his and two-thirds of the room's as well, male and female. What he probably didn't have was a clue how dangerous all that attention was. The women would leave a pile of ash and half a bin-bag of bones come morning. And as for the men...

_What, and now you want to be his hero?_ And why not? He was getting close to needing one. Wade walked over and promptly found himself answering that smile in spite of himself. "Win tonight, did you?"

"Ah, I'm a destitute student. I ought to have bet on you, though. Christ, that poor bastard must have lost IQ points."

No guessing his age by his voice either, then, thanks to a gravelly rasp and an absolute monument of an accent. Glaswegian or close to by the sound, but not much clue to anything else. "I rather hope not. He didn't have them to spare."

"He didn't fight like he did, aye."

"Oh?"

"Looked to me like he was scared of you and looking to end it fast. Lay in swinging, no guard up at all. How did you ever decide on which spot to hit him in?"

Well, now, wasn't this unexpected? "Random number, 1 through 50. That was 37. You've trained?"

"In the process. Not for this, though."

He didn't elaborate; Wade's first guess was boxing. He stuck out a hand. "I'm Wade."

He was met with a firm handshake. "Drew."

"Well, naturally." _Climb a hill in the middle of Scotland, shout "Andrew!" and two million men will turn to see what you want of them._

That earned him a _Well, and fuck you, too_ look that made him laugh.

They chatted amiably for a while; Wade was amused to find that Drew was managing give as little information as he was getting, in spite of clearly being a talker. A few glances directed to carefully chosen places in the room - _Sod off, he's taken_ - cut down on the predatory looks considerably.

He'd decided on 19 maybe, and surely no more than 21 or 22, by the time Drew sighed and said he needed to be getting back to where he was staying; he had a trip back home looming come tomorrow afternoon.

Wade decided abruptly that the eat-that-alive looks had decreased, but not enough to satisfy him. "Where are you staying?"

"With a friend. West of here a bit."

"I'm out that way, as well. I'll walk with you."

Drew looked mildly surprised, but nodded.

Wade had fully intended to draw him out on things that might give a clue to his actual age; "I want to fuck you until you see the face of God. How old are you?" seemed like a bad approach. Instead, he mostly watched Drew and hoped he wasn't gaping like an utter idiot. He moved with a grace that his height and ranginess made a shock, and that made Wade's head reel a bit.

"This is it." Drew had stopped in front of a building that looked as if it had been cut into three small flats.

_Invite me up. Go on, do it._ Age be damned, if he got this man behind a locked door, he was going to have his clothes off.

He didn't. He simply said thanks for the company, offered another handshake, and loped into the building. Wade watched until he saw a light go on in the middle flat, then went around the block to start his walk back across town to where he was actually staying.

He was up early the next morning. He spent an hour denying to himself why that was, then walked back to where he'd left Drew off.

The door to the middle flat was opened by a large and unfriendly-looking Irishman. Marvelous. "If I've gotten the right place, I'm looking for your houseguest. Drew?"

The look got decidedly more unfriendly. "He started for home early. Come in if you like."

Cursing himself for not leaving as soon as he'd woke, Wade followed the man inside. The flat was tiny, but scrupulously neat.

"Want a cuppa?"

It actually sounded good; he'd left without, and it was likely his only hope of staying long enough to find out anything more.

"I'm Sheamus. What's your business with Drew?"

_None of yours_ was the answer that rose to his lips. Poor choice. "We met last night."

"And here you are, come for another helping?"

Drew hadn't mentioned _this_; Wade was starting to wonder if he ought to have. "He mentioned a scraped-together rugby game today. I thought I'd come see if it was still on."

Sheamus gave him a long look; Wade had rarely felt quite so thoroughly assessed. "He doesn't play. And did he _also_ mention how old he is, then?"

_I do believe I'm caught out._ "No, he didn't."

"He's 17. Just under four months ago. Leave off him."

_Bloody HELL._ "I...wasn't aware. And you're a relative of some sort, I assume?"

"A friend. One who promised his mum I'd keep him out of trouble. It seems I made a bad job of it, letting him out alone last night."

"There was no trouble. Your oath is still sound."

_Not by much, I believe_, Sheamus thought.

Wade finished his tea as quickly as he could without obviously gulping it; he wasn't going to get any more information here. Best to just chalk it up to an opportunity lost - and certainly for the best, at that - get himself out of here, and vow to never cross paths with either of them again.


	3. Chapter 3

_I ain't here to tell you what you need  
I ain't gonna take a noble stand  
I ain't here to look you in the eye  
Or beg for you to understand_

Drew was starting to feel like time was a literal, physical thing - a huge clock hanging over his head, ticking away loudly enough to make his teeth ache. He had a plan; he couldn't push the clock to move along any faster, though. It made for a long three months.

But he finally could stop counting seconds. He had to go home to renew his work visa, so he asked for some personal time, as well. It wasn't as if they were falling over themselves to give him things to do, after all. They gave him six weeks, all told, visa and vacation.

He was coming in just under the wire, and was painfully aware of it. The usual communication flurry had ended with a text that gutted him: _I won my first fight. So stop fretting._ He'd heard nothing since, for over two weeks now.

What troubled him was simple enough, but nothing he could ever hope to explain to anyone: That life, the fighting and all that went with it, had changed Wade. Probably mental, to think he could know that after knowing the man for a couple of hours. But when their paths had recrossed in FCW six years after, it was a different man he'd come face to face with. That new one wouldn't have gotten a rather foolish kid out of harm's way, whatever his ulterior motives.

He'd figured out what those were eventually. Six months later, he'd thought, _I think the man was flirting with me_. A year after that, _flirting_ wasn't the word he'd have used for it. But he hadn't actually done anything, had he?

The man he'd encountered again in Florida? It was hard to say what he would have done, or what he'd have demanded after doing it. Or before. And Drew had watched what he'd done with The Nexus in dawning understanding: This was a different man, never mind that he could hardly know that. A colder one. A more calculating one. Time had increased that, rather than not.

What would going _back_ into that life do to him, especially given that it was surely what he was going back for?

So it was 14 hours on a plane to ride to the rescue of a man who most certainly wouldn't appreciate the gesture. But he had to try. At least the abrupt silence gave him an excuse for not saying he was coming.

He took care of the paperwork at hand first, then set out to find a man who wouldn't want finding, and could no doubt be very effective at avoiding it. He had some idea of where to begin at least, or of where to find people who could _tell_ him where to begin. And the fights were just public enough that if he kept his ear to the ground, he'd hear. Hopefully before being run over by the train he was listening for. He had no idea what he was going to do when he did find Wade, so he might as well focus on the process for now.

It took three weeks. That strained his patience, which wasn't enormous under the best of circumstances, but he gritted his teeth and lived with it. He had to be at least a bit discreet about all this; what he was trying to get information about wasn't entirely legal. And he didn't want Wade to know he was looking.

After swimming in that sewer for nearly a month, he had to admit Wade was right about one thing: Chandra belonged nowhere near it. But there were ways around that, and if he saw them, surely Wade had, too. Sending her to his family was only the most obvious of them. He hadn't done it, though. Why? What could make abandoning her to her fate seem like the better choice?

When he finally succeeded, it was in the way he'd expected to: He got a line on a fight Wade was in. Waving a fistful of betting cash about did the rest.

He stayed in the back of the room where it was dark. There was no use in being a distraction. When the fight was done - and it took about as long as the first he'd seen - Wade walked directly over to him.

"Well, so much for being unseen."

"Maybe no one's ever told you this, but you're tall. What in hell possessed you to come here?"

"Convincing you to leave."

"That isn't going to happen. Not now, at least. Let's get the hell out of here before they try to recruit you. The people who arrange these things have been looking glassy-eyed in your direction all evening."

"And if I decide to join in the thing?"

"I'll break both your arms. Come on, I'm hungry."

They ate mostly in silence. Wade finally asked where he was staying.

"A hotel about 150 miles from here. That's almost far enough that I can convince myself I can't smell it any longer."

Wade smiled at the mildly disgusted look on Drew's face. "Too far to go back tonight. You can stay with me. And in the morning I'll take you to the airport and put your arse on a plane."

"You'll not. Not unless you're sat next to me."

Wade said nothing; they could have that argument later.

He didn't fit on the couch, which meant Drew wouldn't, either. It was deja-vu plus. It had taken four years, but he had the man back in his bed - down to his boxers at that - and was feeling much the same way he had then. And it was _still_ bloody horrible timing. He took a deep breath, thought of football stats just as hard as he could, and tried to go to sleep.

If Drew knew Wade at all, he wasn't asleep. "Why did you leave her? Truly? You could have kept her from it."

"It was time to."

"After two years?"

"What would you do if I told you where to find her?" He wanted the subject changed, thank you kindly.

"Go try to talk her into coming back. Same song, second verse, aye? But she's not got a contract now."

"She never had one. She worked for me, more or less."

"Aye? Doing what, exactly?"

Wade snorted. "Not that. I know everyone thought it; we shared hotel rooms for a year, after all. But I didn't ask it of her."

"Never?"

"Not once." Which was true enough. The one time, she'd been the one who'd asked, and he could hardly have refused her. It was the exact moment he'd started to know he'd have to leave her or risk breaking her beyond repair.

* * *

_One Year Earlier_

He'd made mistakes with Chandra - oh, at least a hundred of them, he knew that. Letting her stay anywhere near the atmosphere of Nexus was the first; she hadn't belonged there, and he could see it from the first. He still wasn't entirely sure how Slater and Gabriel had found the girl to begin with. Hitchhiking was the most informative answer he'd ever gotten. He'd been sure then, and was now, why they'd wanted to keep her around. None of which had prevented her from deciding _he_ was the one she should be loyal to - unswervingly, serenely loyal, even when he'd given her ample reason to not be. He'd done that more than once, but it had changed nothing in her behavior toward him.

Most people assumed the obvious reason for it, but he'd never seen that from her. Nor had he encouraged it. Getting entangled with him that way would have been disastrous for her; he'd never been able to bring himself to do that, though he had very little doubt she'd have let him do as he pleased.

And now here she was again, being loyal. This time, it was costing her dearly.

She'd been a tiny bundle of fury for weeks after he'd brought an abrupt end to The Corre. But it had been at _him_. He'd assumed from the start that she'd leave with Slater and Gabriel. Whatever her relationship with them was, besides the entirely obvious, he hadn't been able to imagine her walking away from them. But she had, without a word of explanation to him. She was pissed off up to her teeth, but she'd stayed.

It had taken him several days to realize she'd been drinking, which wasn't something she normally did. She was a lightweight, knew it, and was more than smart enough not to test it. Until now, at least.

He thought she was asleep when he came in. Then he spotted the bottle. She'd either forgotten to hide it, or had passed out before she could. It was getting time to deal with this.

Then he saw the other bottle on the floor next to the bed. It was unlabeled. And empty. _Oh, fucking hell._

She wasn't entirely unconscious, but the best he could get from her was a soupy, bleary semi-lucidity. When he found out where the pills had come from, someone was going to be trying out life without a liver. He scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry. Bloody little fool that you are." A finger down her throat was the most efficient way to get rid of what she'd taken; he was hoping for a break, that he'd caught her soon enough that she really was getting rid of most of it. He didn't relish the idea of having to take her to a hospital and trying to explain this. He had a vague idea that she could even be arrested, or at least put under mandatory observation, and that wouldn't do anyone good, least of all her.

She was more awake; a violent bout of vomiting could do that. She half-dragged herself to the sink and washed her mouth out, cursing blackly around mouthfuls of water. She was near tears when she looked up at him. "Why couldn't you just leave me alone?"

"I don't fancy explaining a dead woman in my room."

"You could have just kicked me out. That's the thing to do these days."

Well, that explained it, apparently. She'd been trying to hold things together with Slater and Gabriel all the while - which he could have told her was a doomed undertaking - and apparently that was done now. "I am sorry. Truly. But you're worth a dozen of them. _Each_ of them. This isn't an answer."

She nodded. "Thanks for the vote of confidence and all, but I think I just want to brush my teeth and go to sleep now."

Understandable. But he planned to sit up and make certain it _was_ sleep.

He heard her drawing a bath, which seemed promising. Right until she fell in. Cursing himself for not realizing how unsteady she'd still be on her feet, he went in and fished her out.

Her clothes were soaked, and the fall seemed to have sapped most of her burst of energy. The easiest thing for it was to undress her and put her in one of his shirts; it hung to her knees, though she kept persistently trying to fall out the top. The effect was really rather cute, or would have been under other circumstances. He put her on her bed and pulled the sheet over her.

He considered the blank pill bottle for a moment, then threw it out the window. There was no need for housekeeping to find it in the morning. The other bottle he pondered for a few minutes, then went and got a plastic cup out of the bathroom. _As served in the finest of establishments._ He poured a triple, tasted it, then went back in the bathroom to put enough water in to make a civilized drink out of what was apparently oak-barrel aged nitroglycerin. She could have done herself in on that alone; he suspected now that she was more drunk than drugged.

_And just what are you going to do about this_, he thought, sitting in a chair across the room from her and sipping his makeshift drink. This surely looked like she'd hit bottom, but if she hadn't, it was going to get ugly. He'd promised to take care of her...God, was it really almost two years gone now? He was truly going to have to keep that promise now.

She woke him from a light doze a couple of hours later. Whatever of her cocktail had gotten into her system was apparently running amok there.

_It must be quite a dream._ She'd kicked off the sheet, and his shirt was riding up...quite a bit as she writhed on the bed. He wondered which of them she was dreaming about. Slater, probably; she'd always seemed to look to him as more of a friend than Gabriel. If her mind was seeking comfort, surely it would go there. Or maybe it wanted an entirely different kind of comfort and she was busily dreaming of them both. He'd avoided ever asking details of what went on there.

Whatever she was seeking in her sleep, and whomever from, she didn't seem to be getting it. Both her movements and the soft sounds she was making were becoming increasingly frustrated. And so was he.

_Good God, you cannot be THIS much of a bastard._ But he was, it seemed. She was lovely, now well past the point of being half naked, and those sounds were beyond enticing. She moved like waves on a sea about to storm; it was bloody impossible to not think about riding those waves.

He moved closer to her, sitting in a chair next to the bed, cursing himself bleakly all the while. He wasn't going to do anything. But he wanted to watch. Badly. _And what I do about it alone in my own bed later will do her no harm._ There was something maddeningly erotic about it - not just the watching, but the sense that this somehow made her entirely his, something completely private to him, as if she were doing this solely for his pleasure.

It was the voice he would blame later, the one that sounded so reasonable, said such barking-mad things, and got him in all the trouble: _You could help her so the poor girl can sleep in peace. So long as she's the one having the orgasm, how is it using her, any more than storing all this up in your mind for a wank later on is?_

The biggest problem in his life was that he often didn't have a good answer for the things that voice said. Like now, for instance. He put down his drink and leaned closer to her. Just a touch or two, surely no more than a minute's effort, and she'd go soaring off the cliff; she was so close now.

A caress at first was all he dared, stroking the silky skin of her inner thigh, encouraging her to part them more for him. He watched her face carefully for any sign she was waking, but the stuff in her system that got all this started seemed to be keeping her under, and he knew from having to wake her mornings that she slept like a log under normal circumstances.

She sighed, her legs relaxing, opening to him. A wallop of lust smacked him that threatened to knock him from his chair and onto her. _You'll do no such thing. Take care of her. Even if that wasn't exactly what you meant when you promised to._

He ran a fingertip along her outer lips, parting them as gently as he could. She moaned restlessly, hips moving more urgently. "Shh, darling. It's all right. Everything's fine."

She sighed and relaxed again, and he slid a finger into her. _Christ, she's tight! Little wonder those grinning idiots had those looks on their faces all the time._ But he didn't want to think about them right now. He watched her shudder, her hips rising to his touch. When she relaxed under his hand again, he slid a second finger into her, thrusting gently now.

He was right about it not taking long; it couldn't have been more than ten seconds after his thumb wandered to her clit that she came, moaning and bucking. It was his name she cried out, and he was so hard he felt like it was going to kill him.

And now she _had_ to be awake, didn't she, drugs or no?

She was, her eyes wide, but not frightened or angry. No, there was something else there, wasn't there?

"Please, Wade. I need you to. _Please_..."

He didn't so much get into the bed with her as fall on her and commence plundering. That could have been unpleasant for her, but she was wet enough, and relaxed enough from her orgasm, that she took what he had for her with only one soft cry of pain. After that it was fingers in his back, teeth in his shoulder, and her voice in his ears telling him yes, and please, and that she'd waited, waited so long. So had he, no matter how much he'd told himself that it had never crossed his mind, that he hadn't looked at Slater and Gabriel with her and had black and bitter thoughts of it taking two of them to do for her what he could have alone.

He didn't do guilt, and the look in her eyes when they were draped exhausted over each other did nothing to make him think he had to begin it. Those thoughts would come later, but not now as she stretched up to kiss him.


	4. Chapter 4

_I can only tell you what I've seen  
I can only tell you how it felt  
When my heart was crushed so bad inside  
'Til I felt the hatred slowly melt  
I don't wanna_

"You can go back with me, or I can stay here. Your choice." Drew dropped two travel bags on the living room floor and beamed at Wade.

Wade wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss Drew or throttle him. It was a fairly common dilemma for him. _Stubborn, the whole bloody countryful of you. You only got a double dose of it, that's all._

He didn't know why he'd actually thought Drew was giving up and going home when he'd left that morning. Giving up really wasn't part of his nature; that was the positive side of being mule-stubborn. What he'd actually done was check out of his hotel and come back with luggage to dump on the floor.

"Why do you even care what I bloody do with the rest of my life? It's not as if I've given you so much reason to."

"It's just a thing I do. Reasons or no."

"If you stay here, I'm charging you rent."

"Oh? I'm sure I can afford half of all this."

"Did I say anything about money?" He didn't think about it; he just drove Drew up against a wall with a charge hard enough to raise a grunted protest. Hands moving roughly over the younger man's body, Wade kissed him, hard. _Maybe this will frighten you off, then. It did before._

The one thing he wasn't expecting was to find Drew kissing him back. And smiling while he did it. Wade pulled back to find laughter dancing in his eyes. And something else, too? Maybe. That was the only thing in the world he'd ever really given in to wishful thinking about.

"I thought we might come round to this eventually. If I can't convince you in three weeks that I'm worth coming back for, I may as well pack up and go, aye? We can call it a wager."

* * *

_Four Years Earlier_

He'd come up with a horror movie somewhere. Not Wade's first choice, but it would forever be Drew's. He loved the things. To Wade, it looked like an excellent choice to drink through.

"Look there, a virgin. She'll be the only one standing at the end."

"I'll take that wager." He probably ought to mention he'd already seen the movie, and the virgin wasn't going to survive half of it, but that would spoil the surprise for Drew, wouldn't it?

"You're on."

Twenty minutes later, the virgin was one no longer. Drew started to look worried. Ten minutes after that, she'd boarded the cuties-to-cutlets train.

"Bloody hell. Well, she's a doornail. What have I lost?"

"Your senses, for wagering without agreeing on terms first."

"Your car needs washing?"

_That's one way to put it, I suppose._ "I did that yesterday. Watch the rest of the movie. We'll decide on that later." Drew had been matching him beer for beer; they were both fairly plonked. Wade slowed down a bit, telling himself there was no particular reason for it.

The movie ended in the standard, inconclusive, sequel-friendly way. "Now, about that wager..."

"Not just going to let me off the hook for that?"

"No."

"All right, then, what am I giving up?"

_Dear God. All right, then._ Wade leaned in and kissed Drew. Let him blame it on the drink; he surely would.

He didn't respond, but he didn't pull away, either. Or start throwing punches, which Wade had thought the most likely reaction. What he saw in Drew's eyes when he finally pulled back was the only thing that was there more often than bullheaded stubbornness - curiosity.

"Ah, so it's trying to bluff me into backing out on paying my wager, is it?"

_There is a God after all._ "Calling me on it?"

"I think your beer courage is going to give out before much longer."

"Oh?" He kissed him again. The same non-reaction reaction wasn't good enough any more. He was suddenly very annoyed with the bit of elastic holding Drew's hair back. He dispensed with that, then plunged his hands in, holding him still with two fistfuls, kissing harder, moving to pin him down on the couch with body weight.

He was willing to be patient. He'd been for a long time already. Eventually, Drew started kissing him back - almost shyly at first, but with more confidence as it became clear Wade wasn't tricking him and wasn't going to push him away and laugh or mock him for it. Eventually his rubbing and grinding - _like a bear scratching against a tree_, Drew thought, stifling a laugh - made it very obvious this was no prank.

"And here I thought you'd had too much to manage this."

Not by half. He could only hope Drew hadn't. He grabbed the younger man's hand and put it where he was dying for it to be.

He didn't move it away, but he didn't move it any _other_ way, either. He wasn't going to make this easy. "Touch me. Go on, _touch_ me."

He did, tentatively at first, then with more confidence. And yes, with curiosity. "I still say you went through the queue for it twice."

"No one told me a cock and a prick were the same thing, so I queued for both. Imagine my surprise."

"Not half what I think mine's about to be." He stroked the hard length consideringly. "You know you're likely to kill me with this, aye?"

Wade smiled. "I _do_ have some idea how to not do that." He ran his fingers along the waistband of Drew's jeans, hardly able to believe he was finally, finally doing it. "You haven't the first clue, have you? You've not done this before."

Drew shook his head. "I understand in theory, you might say. That's no theory you're wielding there." He pushed halfway into a sitting position again, as much as the pressure of Wade's body against his would allow. "Show me."

It seemed like a strange request; Drew had seen him naked literally hundreds of times. But there was a difference between seeing and looking, wasn't there? He shifted back to give room, and freed himself, fervently hoping that it wouldn't end abruptly in a ruined shirt for Drew. He'd waited too long for this to have it end that way.

"And you've a mind to do _what_ with this, again?" Drew traced the length with a fingertip. Wade shuddered and groaned; he felt like every nerve in him had been dipped in fuel oil and set alight. "And in the morning we'll be sober and it will have never happened, aye?"

"Drew..."

"Don't bloody argue for once. You know it has to be that way as well as I do."

He wanted to argue, very much. _It does NOT have to be that way._ But he wanted what Drew had suddenly decided to do for him much more. Arguing could wait.

Years of frustrated desire rose up and began making demands. Wade ignored them and took everything very slowly. Drew would joke and tease right up to the end of the world, but Wade knew he was nervous, and probably a good bit frightened, too.

So, slowly: More kissing, clothes gradually shed, hands exploring and encouraging exploration, coaxing him off the too-short couch to the bedroom, and at last onto the bed.

Then he had to stop and just look; he'd been waiting a long time for this sight. _How in hell can you be even more beautiful? You shouldn't be allowed._ Only one thing marred the picture - an unfair imbalance Wade intended to correct.

Drew had been lying there with his eyes closed; they flew open when he felt Wade's tongue on his cock. None of what had happened up to now had gotten it stirring. That was changing. Curiosity started giving way to pleasure as Wade got to work on him, hands and mouth awakening him in a way he hadn't expected.

Wade was fully aware of Drew watching him suck his cock; it wanted to drive him wild, but he held back a bit longer, just a little more. This had all taken time and patience, but it had been the easy part. If Drew was going to panic and call the whole thing off, it would be now.

"Turn over."

Tension washed back over him, but he did. Wade moved pillows around under him a bit, then rooted in the drawer of the bedside table for what he needed. He put it all aside for the moment; that tension needed to be gone, all of it he could make vanish.

He ran his hands through Drew's hair, down over his shoulders, and onto his back, not so much massaging as stroking, soothing. Wade felt more than heard his sigh as a good bit of the tension drained away. Good, then. He poured some lube over his fingers.

Drew hissed and jolted forward when he felt Wade's finger press against him. It felt good in a way he hadn't expected, but it was the finish of any idea, however slim, that this could still be a bluff. He relaxed as best he could; he wasn't sure what had possessed him to let it go this far, but stopping it now would be close to cruelty. Wade wasn't someone he ever wanted to be cruel to. He jumped and made a soft, protesting sound when the finger pushed its way in, but that felt good, too. It felt even better moving, more caressing than thrusting. When he moaned, Wade slid another into him. A first jolt of pain came and went in a few moments, washed away by pleasure. He pushed back against the pressure, wanting to know how that would feel. Wade made an almost painful sound of his own, then the fingers slid out of him. He bit back a protest.

Wade made quick work of condom and lube, astonished by how much his hands were shaking. Drew flinched again when he moved up behind him, but he didn't call a stop to it. The head of his cock pressed where it was screaming to be, pushing but not quite penetrating, not yet, he paused to look again. Six years. Six, and it seemed he'd have this once to make up for all the waiting. He closed his hands over Drew's hips and pushed until the head of his cock pried its way into him.

Drew growled and cursed; this was a lot more than a couple of fingers, and had no give at all to it. It hurt. He tried to twist away, more from instinct than anything else, but Wade's hands clamped down on him, holding him still for it. He went slowly, sinking himself completely before he stopped and went back to stroking, soothing. "Tell me when."

"When what?"

Wade smiled. "You'll know."

He did. He wasn't sure of the exact moment it went from hurting and feeling wrong to being exactly what he needed. "Aye, now."

Wade pulled back a couple of inches, then sank himself back in. With each thrust, a little further back, giving him a little more. By the time he was pulling back on each stroke until only the head was still in, Drew was moaning softly, pushing back to meet each thrust. It rubbed his cock against the pillows, which felt wonderful.

"Good?"

"Aye. I always wondered what it would feel like to have an eye put out from inside."

_Forever the wiseass_. Wade moved, shifting angles a bit. It got renewed murmured protests from Drew until he found the spot he was looking for. That was when he made a discovery: Drew was vocal. And _loud_.

"You're not made to inspire whispering, are you?" was all Drew had to say when he brought up the subject of volume. Not that he really minded it at all; he thought the people upstairs might a bit, but as far as he'd ever been able to tell, they communicated entirely in stomping and slamming. Let them listen for a change - and to something a lot more interesting, at that.

An author he liked had once written that an orgasm was God's way of saying _Fun's over, now go to sleep_. Wade was a firm believer in that, and even if he weren't, he'd want this to last. He also wanted Drew to come first; he wasn't about to let him have the excuse of not _really_ enjoying it. Sadly, Wade expected a hundred other excuses, but that was not going to be one of them. He slid his hand over Drew's thigh, found him hard and eager to be brought off. It didn't take long to tend to that. After that, he simply couldn't go on much longer himself.

Drew was gone in the morning. Wade was disappointed, but not really surprised. It was more than he'd ever dared hope for. Wanting more was just greed, wasn't it?


	5. Chapter 5

_Oh, but if I held you in my arms  
If I could squeeze you till we cry  
I don't wanna lose this love I feel  
I don't wanna lose this fight tonight  
I ain't gonna_

Wade decided within a week and a half that he was going back with Drew. He also decided, after a twinge of conscience, to not tell him. He had no doubt that this would all end the moment Drew knew he had what he wanted. Wade didn't want it to end, and if it had to, surely not any sooner than absolutely necessary.

Some days it was all he could do to keep his hands off and his trousers on. Drew was willing, if not exactly eager. Wade was more than eager enough to make up the difference, and sometimes he felt like Drew might be coming around to admitting he liked it, just a little. But Wade still fully expected him to say "I did what I had to," and walk away the moment he could.

It wasn't just the sex, either, and that part, even Wade found hard to admit to sometimes. With the tension of all those years finally out of the way, their friendship had started rebuilding itself. He'd missed it, a lot. He was happier with the man around, no denying that.

The one place Wade didn't want him around was at fights. Drew looked like exactly what he was: Young, strong, tough, and more than able to stand up in a fight. Wade had seen all he wanted of the recruitment gleam in the eyes of the fight organizers.

Drew rarely argued the point; his danger sense had improved over the years. "I enjoy the surprise of seeing which way you've managed to further mangle that nose."

He'd argued it tonight, though, and Wade had caved. It was apparently not the night he ought to have done that.

Wade knew the man: Lithuanian, with a reputation as a sexual predator without much concern over whether he preyed on men or women. And he'd just set eyes on Drew for the first time. Wade thought the man couldn't be very smart at all if he looked at _that_ and saw a victim.

And he was a complete fucking moron if he thought Wade wasn't going to do something about it. "Avelis. Fuck off."

"And if I do not?"

_Oh, good. It's so much easier to make a point this way._ Wade swung a haymaker that caught the bastard cleanly in the temple. Avelis went to one knee, and Wade considered a moment, then kicked him where the punch had landed. When the Lithuanian didn't go down fast enough to please him, he did it again. "Let's go."

Neither of them said a word until they got back to the flat. Wade looked at Drew to find him wide-eyed and..._smiling_?

"You were jealous."

"I was concerned. Avelis has a bad reputation."

"And did you think I'd be going home with him? Willingly or otherwise?"

"Of course not. I just thought it best -"

"You fought him over me, what little fight he gave. I call that jealousy."

"And if that's what it is?"

"I ought to _keep_ you jealous, then, aye?" Drew closed the distance between them in two steps. His hand slipped up Wade's thigh, found his cock hard and ready, and gave it an oddly friendly squeeze. "It seems to have had...an effect on you."

It was Wade's turn to go wide-eyed. Willing he might have been, but this was the first time Drew had instigated anything. Apparently it had had an effect on him, too. It was the first time he didn't have to be coaxed or seduced into the bedroom.

Drew was smiling all the while Wade was ridding them both of their bothersome clothing. He reached up and ran his fingertips over Wade's beard, smiling all the more at the shiver that produced. "You should keep this."

"You like it?" Wade suddenly wanted to hear that he did.

"It suits you."

_Eternal wiseass that you are._ He pulled Drew up tight against him and kissed him roughly. He was surprised - and thoroughly pleased - to find Drew's cock was hard as it rubbed against his. It usually took a lot more to put him in the mood. "You like this, then?"

"Oh, aye."

"So it suits you, then?" Wade laughed and pushed him back onto the bed.

"_You_ suit me." Drew started to turn over, a little surprised at how quickly he'd gone from flirting to not wanting another microsecond of foreplay. He hadn't minded the past couple of weeks of giving Wade what he wanted; but now he wanted it, too.

Wade grabbed Drew's legs at the calves, stopping him from turning over. "Stay as you were." When the younger man turned back onto his back, Wade moved on top of him, groaning as their cocks rubbed together again in that position. He fumbled in the drawer for lube and got himself ready. He lifted the younger man's legs into position and moved up close. Drew was watching, curious and heated blue eyes locked on him.

"I want to watch your face when I make you come all over me." Before Drew could work up some wiseass response, Wade gave him the first six inches, all at once, no working him up to it. The complicated pain-pleasure sound Drew made drove him half-mad. He gave him more, loving the sounds of the Scot's moans and fluent cursing.

Wade waited until he'd gotten all the way in and had been fucking Drew for while before he whispered, "I'm going back with you."

"I know." Drew smiled giddily up at him. "God, Wade, that's so good."

They could talk about how and when he knew later. For now, Drew was right, and that was enough: It was good. Wade let go entirely to the pleasure of it; if this was going to be the last of it, he wanted it to be memorable for them both.

After, they lay curled against each other, another new addition to the usual routine from Drew. He was toying lazily with the hair at the nape of Wade's neck, driving him a little mad in spite of his feeling entirely sated.

"And now you're thinking once I've got you on the plane, there's no more bribing you to be done, aye?"

"Well, there _is_ nothing to bribe me to do any longer, is there? So it never happened. Just like before. Right?"

"If that's what you want."

"It was _never_ what I wanted. You're the one who walked out, not me."

"Slowly and painfully, aye." He smiled at the dire look Wade shot him. "I wasn't ready for it all, not then. You'd had time to sort out what you thought. I hadn't."

"And now?"

"And now I'm yours if you're mental enough to want me. Is coming all this way for you not enough to prove it?"

_Thank you, thank you. Whatever you are out there, I still don't believe you exist, but thank you anybloodyway._


	6. Chapter 6

_I can only hope you feel your tears  
I can only wish you'd feel the hope  
I can only hope that I can see  
Out beyond this skin that covers me_

"You miss her." Wade reached down and stirred Drew's hair into disarray. He never could seem to help himself.

"Aye. She isn't _anywhere_, is she? She's lost to us."

They'd been trying for three months to find Chandra. She'd complicated the whole thing enormously by moving from where Wade had known to find her. He didn't even know when she'd gone; her former neighbors were astonishingly closed-mouthed about even that, never mind about where she'd gone.

"Come here." He smiled as Drew moved up and burrowed in, head on his chest. It was a side of Drew no one but him saw. A side of himself as well, he supposed. "There's one last place we should look. I've found where her grandmother moved to." He felt Drew's fingers clutch at his arm briefly. "The old lady didn't like me much, but we'll try nonetheless. We'll be lucky to not be shot."

_Didn't like me much_ was a gross understatement. He really had come fairly close to being shot before Chandra had managed to call the old lady off. He couldn't be at all sure she'd do that this time.

* * *

"Get off m'porch, you. She ain't here."

Five hours in the air. Another six on the road. Net result: Wade was about to have his head blown off by a woman about three feet tall and about a thousand years old.

"We need to speak to her, ma'am, no more than that. She's coming back, aye?"

"What makes you think so?"

Count on Drew. If he could bottle it...She wasn't pointing the shotgun at him, either.

"There's not a car in the drive. I can't see you living out here without one. She's in it, aye?"

She pulled an annoyed face. But the shotgun dropped a bit. "She's in town. Ain't gonna be back until tonight."

That was surely possible. The last thing that could be called a town, they'd passed 40 miles back. It hadn't been doing much to earn the name.

"If you'd tell us where, we'll take ourselves off your porch and go find her."

"Cross with her on the road, more likely." The shotgun dropped entirely, the business end pointing toward the porch floor. "Come on in, I guess."

Wade wasn't sure the invitation included him, but he decided to treat it as if it did.

Drew veered close enough to him to speak without being overheard. "If we'd had her at Culloden, you'd have been born in South Strathclyde. I expect suitable reward for risking my life, aye?"

"Absolutely. The moment we're back in the civilized world."

It was a long two hours before headlights splashed the silent living room. Chandra hurried in, no doubt wondering about the strange car in the yard. "Gran? Who's -"

She froze, eyes enormous. Drew got up and took the two grocery bags from her arms before they hit the floor. He was watching closely to be sure she didn't end up there instead.

"I can still shoot 'em."

That seemed to snap her out of it. "No. What are you doing here?" Her gaze swept to include both men.

"Looking for you, lass."

"You found me."

Her tone was carefully neutral. It hurt Wade's heart a little. "We've been worried."

"Oh?"

No, this wasn't going to be easy. Wade saw the old lady look among the three of them, trying to sort it out. Drew was the wild card to her, wasn't he?

"Chickens haven't been fed, girl. Take that one with you. Bet you've never fed chickens, have you, boy?"

Drew smiled. "I heard tell of them in Scotland, I seem to recall."

The old woman laughed. "Go learn something."

They didn't get all the way to the henhouse; Chandra stopped halfway, shaking her head. "No way she didn't feed them today. And we don't feed them at night. Rats get most of it."

"We've been gotten out of the way, then."

"Probably so she can shoot Wade with no witnesses. What are you two doing here?"

"Just as I said, lass."

"Why now?"

"Took this long to find you, aye? You've not made it easy."

"I wasn't trying to."

He couldn't really see her face in the dusk. He took a step closer. Her eyes were glittery, shining too fiercely in the faint light from the house. "It would be easier if you'd not be angry, lass."

"Who says I want it to be easy? Whatever it is?"

"How is it I always find you like this? All thorns and sharpness?" He closed the rest of the distance between them and pulled her against him. If the old lady could see, he was probably about to die a horrible death. _I may as well die smiling._ He kissed her.

For about five seconds, it was like trying to kiss an angry ferret; it was all he could do to keep her still. He could feel her tears on his own face when she started kissing him back.

"It's not all gone to ashes, then? Ah, I've missed you, lass. Come home."

"It isn't home any more, Drew." She was trying to pull away from him again; he wasn't letting her.

"It's not the place you left." Which was putting it mildly. But that was a conversation for all three of them to have.

"We should go in. She knows we're not feeding chickens out here."

"Now, there's a word for it I've not heard before."

It was good to hear her laugh again. He'd missed that, too.

* * *

"Well, now that you've put them out of the way, does the shooting begin?" Wade wished the idea were less plausible than it was.

"Nah. But it's time you told me what you're doing here."

"I came to tell her I'm sorry. To explain if I can."

"And the charmer out there?"

Wade smiled. "It...might have been wiser to send me out there with her."

"I doubt it. Why don't you explain it to me? Test it out a little before you try it on her."

He thought it would probably be easier the other way around. He gave her the abridged version: Where he'd gone and why, why he couldn't take Chandra with him.

"You find what you were looking for there?"

"Yes." That and more. But she didn't need to know that.

"You came to take her back with you."

"If she'll have it, yes. Is that going to put you in a bind out here in the middle of nowhere?"

She looked surprised that he'd thought of it. "I'll make do. I've done it for years enough. She's got to have her own life, not sit around here babysitting me."

Wade thought she might be the person least in need of babysitting that he'd ever seen.

"They're walking closer coming in than going out. Got a way of working things out his way, doesn't he?"

_And then some._ "He's been...mourning losing her." It wasn't a word he'd thought of before, but it was the right one.

"Looks to me like she wasn't more than misplaced."

_I was the one who misplaced her. But not again. Never again, for both their sake._ And just maybe his own, as well.

The nearest hotel was 150 miles away. The house was small. Wade and Drew found themselves bunking on the living room floor, once they'd determined beyond doubt that the couch was a foot too short for either of them. Wade had assured the old lady that they'd seen worse...to which she'd dryly said she was sure of that.

Wade was awake well into the single-digit hours, which wasn't unusual for him. But so was Drew, and that was strange. Wade lay marveling that he knew this by the sound of Drew's breathing, that he _could_ know it by that.

"Go to her. You're not going to sleep anyway, and she must be wondering why you're still out here."

"I'm wondering where that old lady might have put the bear trap, that's why."

Wade choked back a laugh. "I think she approves of you. How you've done that, I don't know."

"Oh, aye. The trap would be for you."

"Just don't scream when you put your foot in it."

"It's not my foot I'm worried about. She'd set it up higher, wouldn't she?"

Chandra's door was shut, but off the latch. Drew didn't bother knocking. The less noise, the better. And he knew she would be waiting for him.

She was sitting up in bed, a book in her hand, watching him as he shut the door behind him, latching it this time. "I was starting to think you wouldn't come. You know I'm not going to get up to mischief in my Gran's house, right?"

"Aye." He sat next to her and wrapped her up against him. She cuddled in willingly. She'd missed him, too, never mind how much she'd been trying to ignore that. "Have you wondered what might have been if you'd come to me for help instead of running away?"

"You and Wade might not be together." She smiled at the look on his face. "I thought about it all night, why you'd both be here. I couldn't come up with anything else that made even a little sense."

"And does that make so much?"

"Yes. He's different. More at peace. I don't know anyone else who could do that."

He thought he did, but it wasn't the time to say so. "Did you go back to him, lass? I know you didn't make your way back to Heath."

She knew they weren't talking about Wade any more. "No. Justin...would have wanted too much from me. But you figured that out for yourself, didn't you?"

He brushed his fingertips over her thigh, remembering the bruises, feeling what he'd felt when he saw them as if it had happened an hour ago. "I'd sorted out it wasn't Heath, aye. That left only one. Why, lass? Why did you not come to me?"

"I was afraid of you. I was afraid of everyone but Wade, and he sent me away."

"You know why now, aye?"

She nodded against his chest.

"I'll not speak his apologies for him, but give him the chance to do it, lass. And when he does, know he means every word."

"All right."

"And now? Are you still afraid of me?"

She smiled and ran her fingers over his shoulder and down his arm. Even that small touch was enough to make him shiver. "No. Not any more."

"Good. Come home to us then, lass."

"Us?"

"I know what I see as well, aye? Us."

* * *

Wade's first thought when he woke to find Drew gone was that the old lady really would shoot him if she caught him naked and all over her granddaughter. Which was fully where he expected to find him.

Or not. What he did find was Drew asleep sitting propped against the headboard, Chandra cradled against him equally soundly asleep.

_Just what HAS gone on between you two?_ He brushed stray hairs out of Drew's face, and was met with the smile and beautiful eyes that owned him. "You must have a case of it if you've gotten in her bed and still behaved yourself."

"Ah, up you."

Chandra giggled against his chest. She seemed not at all inclined to move. "Ooh, can I watch?"

"That's usually my part of it, love."

Now she moved. The look she gave him was speculative enough to make Wade feel a bit warm. "Oh?"

"Mmm, yes. But there's always room for exceptions."

"First time I've heard _that_ sentence from you."

"Extenuating circumstances. And you may not want to be in bed together wh - "

"When what? When I find two men half naked in my granddaughter's bedroom?"

"It's not better than one man all naked?" Drew had cranked up the wattage on that smile; Wade had his doubts that even that would work just now. And just how long had she been standing there?

"I was expecting _that_." She gave Wade a look that said she'd been standing there just long enough. "Think you fellas oughta go put shirts on?"

Drew was looking like he wished he could teleport. She didn't miss that, either. "You got anything on under there?"

"Oh, aye."

"Then go on, unless you think you got something I ain't seen before."

"Well, if you put it that way..." He got up, boxers and all, and got out of the room in a hurry. Wade followed, trying not to laugh at the obvious inspection Drew got on the way out.

"You got good taste, girl, I'll give you that. So does that other fella, doesn't he?"

_Oh, boy._ "You're not going to go all Tea Party about this on me, are you, Gran?"

"Hell, girl, I don't care where they put what. What's it mean for you?"

"That's...still up for discussion, I think."

"You goin' back with 'em?"

"Yes. Are you going to be okay with that?"

"Guess. But I gotta tell you, seein' what that one's drawers weren't hidin' and what no clothes on God's earth are gonna hide on the other one, you're gonna spend a lot of time not walkin' right."

_She knows an exit line when she says one, too._ Chandra giggled all the way through getting dressed.

They left that afternoon, mostly because neither of the men was enthusiastic about another night on the floor. The last thing Chandra did was load five gallon bottles of water in the trunk.

"If you would have broken down out there, you would have died. That's a shitload of desert, if you didn't notice."

Wade had noticed, but not until they'd been well into it. He hadn't quite been able to bring himself to believe the map. "That's taking hard to get to an extreme, don't you think?"

"Sometimes a girl just wants to see a little effort."

Leaving early meant they had to stay overnight in the city. Getting Chandra on their flight was no trouble; there didn't seem to be people kicking down the gates.

"No one ever comes here," she said, laughing. "And the ones who try to leave die in hordes in the shitload of desert."

It was hard to miss that she was getting increasingly nervous as the day wore on, though. Wade took Drew aside and asked if he might like to tend to their business alone the first time. Isolation notwithstanding, it was a fairly good-sized city, and he was certain he could find something to do for the rest of the afternoon.

"She'd see rejection all over that, I think. But if you'd be inclined to end the waiting before it kills one or the other of us, that would be lovely."

He thought it best to depend on Drew's instincts for this; they were far better than his. Even with them, watching television had never been quite so awkward that he could remember. It was a relief to look up and find them kissing - gently, tentatively from her side, but warmly. She kept glancing fretfully over at Wade, though, until Drew laughed softly and burrowed under her hair to murmur something in her ear. She blushed, but she nodded.

"Why don't you come over here, man? She'll have neckstrain come morning if you stay over there."

Wade sat on the other side of her, surprised by how nervous he felt, how aware he was of wanting this to go very, very well. He smiled as Drew gently coaxed Chandra into turning to face him, hands never stopping their slow exploration of her.

He swore he was watching four years unfurl in her eyes. It was the first time it had ever occurred to him that she might have seen them very differently than he had. _Arrogant bastard, of course she did._ But that was the place he'd been in then. He would forever insist that he would have been bad for her then; now he was wondering if she might have been very good for him, though.

Her summation of four years was to reach up and run her fingertips along his jawline. "I like the beard. It suits you."

Drew chuckled from behind her. "Haven't I been saying? Live with it, aye."

He was working out some reply to that when Chandra, fingers still resting on his cheek, kissed him.

"Been wanting to do that, lass?"

"No. I've been wanting _him_ to do that." The peeved-stern look she gave him made Wade smile.

"It hasn't seemed wise. Not until now." She moved softly against him when he did. He gave a moment to regretting not being able to do this much sooner, then paid all of his attention to kissing her.

Drew's hands were still moving on her. Wade could tell by her gasp and shiver exactly when the touches turned intimate. Eyes full of mischief, he did something equally intimate to Wade.

"Libertine."

"Not at all. I just wanted to see what four years of being fucking clueless feels like."

"How does it feel?" Chandra was on the edge of a giggling fit.

"Like this." Drew took her hand and put it where he'd just had his.

She knew, of course. There _had_ been the one time, and their life circumstances meant that she'd seen Wade up close in what amounted to spandex underwear. Gran was right, too: After a certain point, no clothing could completely hide it. But it had been a long time. "Uhm...whoa."

"That's more or less what I said, too, lass. I've lived though it."

"You said it much louder." Wade sounded thoroughly amused.

"Wasn't my hand you had it in, was it?"

Sometimes Drew simply amazed him. Chandra was laughing helplessly - which felt quite nice given where her hand still was - and Wade could feel the sudden tension in her draining away.

"We don't have to leap right to that, either, love. I can think of a few other things to do. And I imagine Drew can think of at least a thousand more besides."

"4,873. But all of them involve having your clothes off, sweetheart."

That they could do together without terrifying or hurting her.

For Wade, it seemed to dissolve into a swirl of fingers, lips, and tongues. By the time he realized Chandra and Drew had at some point started ganging up on him, he'd also remembered something that had slipped his mind in all this: Being shared wasn't new ground for her. She'd done it for two years. So when Drew nodded to him, he knew where it was going. He turned onto his back and caught her hips, guiding her down as Drew lifted her onto him. She made a speaking-in-tongues sound that made him ache, and clutched at Drew's hands, but she didn't struggle or protest for even a moment.

She didn't seem truly happy, though, until Drew moved around next to her. Whatever he might have had in mind, she had him down her throat in seconds, and he clearly abandoned his plans in favor of hers. Two years of frustration and denial blazed for a moment in Drew's eyes, then was gone, burned to a cinder and vanished behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes and threw his head back, moaning softly.

He wanted to keep watching them; it was no game for him. He loved it, and the two of them in their pleasure wanted into his brain like a drug, but Chandra had found a rhythm that pleased her, and it pleased him as well, very much.

It was a chain reaction, but he was never sure after where it started or finished, only that they ended back where they'd started, collapsed on the bed, Chandra held between them. And still he didn't sleep, but he thought Drew was assuming he was when he slid his hand across Chandra's thighs - brushing the back of his hand against Wade at the same time - and whispered, "It's all right then, sweetheart. No one's ever going to hurt you again."

_We really have to talk about this. Whatever it is._ But it could wait; he was certain of that when he heard Chandra's soft sigh - pleasure? relief? peace? - and felt her nestle further in between them. It truly could wait.


	7. Chapter 7

_I ain't gonna tell you how I feel_  
_I ain't gonna tell you how I feel_  
_I ain't gonna pray for you to love me_  
_Because I know you will_  
_I just know it_

Most days, Drew was there to insist that Chandra not spend the whole day, well...alone in a hotel room. He had a way of finding the most bizarrely fun things to do and dropping them like small gifts into her lap: One day, a Chinese farmer's market in an unexpected corner of a city, the adventure compounded by the fact that he spoke exactly as much Chinese as the none she spoke ("What doesn't kill me will...probably make me go hurl behind that truck over there," he said, trying to chew through something in a bowl of soup that she later identified as probably being a pig's leg tendon.). Another day, a zoo that had experienced a population explosion of baby animals a month before and had them all out to meet the people. He never would tell how he'd arranged for her to spend 15 minutes with a lap full of baby snow leopard. Yet another, a food-truck crawl that ended in them sitting on a park bench expressing identical and increasingly passionate desires to die before they exploded colorfully.

"Book down, you up."

She smiled. It was his usual call to adventure.

She was surprised to find Wade waiting in the lobby; he'd gone along with them only a couple of times. It made more sense when they pulled up at an enormous indoor aquarium. They had their own personal tour guide.

It quickly evolved into a tour not for the kiddies, as Wade, with something approaching mischief in his eyes, told them how everything they looked at had sex (Sharks: "They don't exactly. Which goes a long way to explaining those tempers.").

A tank of seahorses stopped their wandering for a while. But not the running reproductive commentary.

"They mate for eight hours."

Drew took a step back to reconsider them. "So you're saying if I'm good, I get to come back as a seahorse?"

"Yes. And if you're _very_ good, so will I."

She liked being with them both. It was like watching a delicate and affectionate balancing act; Wade calmed Drew's manic pace considerably, and Drew warmed Wade's much frostier usual nature.

The end of their meandering route through the building took them to a tank full of baby sharks. A sign invited guests to pet them. Chandra almost vaulted into line.

She was reaching into the tank when Drew decided it was time to serenade her. "Farewell and adieu to ye, fair Spanish ladies..."

She yanked her hand back like the water was boiling.

"I don't see you reaching in there, you knob." Wade looked like he was trying very hard not to sit down on the floor and laugh.

"I don't trust anything with eight extra sets of teeth that never gets laid."

She was reaching in again when Wade caught her wrist gently. "Carefully. Toward the tail only. If you go the wrong way, you'll pull back a handful of shredded fingers."

"They won't bite?"

"Not unless this place is keen on lawsuits. They're not old enough to realize they have 25 or 30 years without an orgasm ahead of them, so they're not really angry yet."

She thought the attendant did an admirable job of not choking to death.

She liked being with them both in other ways, too. Private ways. Intimate ways. She hadn't thought she'd ever want that again, but she felt more balanced, more right, with both of them - even when it wasn't exactly what she was expecting.

She'd waited for them to get back from the house show in an increasing fever. It hit her sometimes that way: I want it. NOW. So she was upset for more than one reason when Wade came back favoring his left shoulder; nothing serious, he assured her quickly, but it was sore and he was inclined to just sit very still for the rest of the evening.

Well, they couldn't always all be in sync - and Drew was definitely in the mood.

"He'll want to watch. Do you mind, sweetheart?"

_All the little gifts for me, the adventures. I'm the gift he's bringing to Wade tonight. Maybe even an adventure._ The thought sent a jolt through her. "No, I don't mind."

Wade got up and moved to the chair across the room from the bed. It was close enough for the first time at this.

Drew took Chandra's hands, raising them and pressing them to his chest. "Touch me, lass."

She did, eyes closed, hands slowly exploring him. Wade could see his breath quickening as she worked her careful way lower. When she reached his waist, she let her fingers trail under the waistband of his jeans. Drew groaned softly. His eyes were closed as well as he concentrated completely on sensation.

Wade assumed Drew would be the one to get things moving to the next stage. He was wrong about that. He smiled as Chandra flicked the button at Drew's waist open, giving her freer access. Drew's hips jerked sharply, just once, as her hand slid further down.

"Oh, aye. Put your hands on me, lass. There, right there."

She did, eagerly. When the zipper got in her way, she dispensed with that, too. He was hard, thick and hot under her fingers. She gripped him through his boxers and stroked.

Drew's hips were bucking, past his ability to control. She loved being able to drive him to that, but she didn't want to end it this way, not at all. She started to kneel. Drew caught her, shaking his head. "That's not what I want."

"I want to. I want to taste you."

Wade bit back a moan. It was the urgency in her voice that did it. _Christ, I'm going to finish before they even get started._

"You'll have your chance, all you like. Not now." He pushed her back toward the bed, growling in annoyance at his jeans sliding down his hips. He let them finally, kicking them aside when they hit the floor.

Chandra sat on the edge of the bed. The level that put her at made her think more about what she wanted to do. She bit her lip and waited.

Drew stretched out on the bed, propped up on his side. "Come here to me, sweetheart."

She did, turning to face him. Drew smiled and reached out, curving a hand over her hip and pushing her onto her back. He toyed with the top two buttons on her blouse, then moved to the first one buttoned one and unfastened it. Then another, and another, until the thin blouse fell open, revealing a bit of lace that made Wade think of seafoam clinging to her breasts.

When she reached for him, Drew caught her hands and pinned them above her head. She gasped sharply, eyes widening.

_Go easy, Drew. She's skittish enough._ If Wade could ever have willed his lover to hear his thoughts, it was now. Drew could be a bit aggressive, and the state he was in was obvious enough.

"Trust me?"

She nodded. She was nearly panting; Wade thought her heart must be triphammering.

Drew let go of her hands. "Keep them there, then, aye?"

She nodded again.

Drew bent and sucked hard, pulling lace, nipple, and all into his mouth. She moaned and started to reach for his hair. Wade sympathized; he rather liked doing that himself. Drew was forever cursing him out for pulling, but it was just too hard to resist. She did, though, letting her hands fall back on the pillow again. Drew sucked harder, worrying at the tender flesh with his teeth, and her hips started moving, rocking in waves, letting him know what she wanted and needed. He just smiled and turned his attention to the other breast for a while before he reached under her, unhooked the bra, and pulled it over her head and off. He grinned at Wade and tossed it at him. It landed covering his now very busy hand. He considered for a moment, then left it there.

Chandra glanced at him, tracking the arc of her bra through the air. He didn't seem to be having too much trouble with his shoulder just now. She had the distinct feeling she'd been set up.

Drew was flinging clothes everywhere now, first his shirt, then hers. He struggled a bit getting rid of hers, but he refused to let her help, or even to lower her arms. He moved over her, grinding, riding, letting her feel him where he was very soon going to be. "Want it, sweetheart?"

"Please, Drew, please." She heard Wade moan softly across the room; she didn't mind any more. If anything, it was exciting her more, knowing he was watching Drew about to take her, and getting so much pleasure from it. She hadn't really lost the old habit of liking to please him; she just had all sorts of new ways to do it now.

Drew was done teasing. His whole body felt like one low, slow ache. He peeled her panties off, shed his boxers, and slid his hands between her thighs, parting them further. "Ah, and I've been all day thinking of this, lass."

"Give it to me, all of it, please..."

He was a well-raised young man, Wade thought with a smile. He did as the lady asked of him. He didn't think this was going to go on much longer; both Drew and Chandra were almost sobbing with pleasure as they writhed and tangled together. She'd disobeyed almost immediately, her hands coming down to find Drew's shoulders, fingers digging in. He didn't think Drew minded at all.

Wade held out until he realized Chandra's writhing had become an attempt to escape, to ease the intensity of the sensations; she couldn't bear how much she loved it. And that was it for him. He came with a groan and a vague last thought that she probably would prefer not to wear her bra again without it getting a good washing first. He was aware that both Drew and Chandra weren't far behind him, but he didn't have even the energy to look up, not for a while.

When he did again, he went to them, smiling at the tangle of limbs and hair, the sleepy smiles. He reached down and stroked Chandra's cheek with a fingertip. When she turned her dreamy-eyed gaze up to him, he kissed her. She returned it, languid and smiling against his lips.

"Coming in with us?" Drew was smiling knowingly at him.

"It's a shame I'm through for the evening." He slid into the bed with them, Chandra tucked between.

"Aye, it is."

"The two of you _are_ inspiring, though. We'll see what she thinks of that come morning, hmm?"

"I know what I think of it." Drew shifted, pressing tight against Chandra so he could lean in for a kiss from Wade. "Have I thanked you lately for indulging me as you do?"

"It's not for lack of enjoying it." Wade smiled. "You could just as easily say that you indulge me." He fell asleep thinking about the many ways that was yet to happen.

It had become clear to Chandra in the past few weeks that Wade had a simple and practical view of what the three of them were: She and Drew belonged to him. What they worked out between them was their business, so long as it didn't interfere with that. Drew seemed entirely content with that; it wasn't hard for her to be, either.

It really wasn't much different from how things had always been with Wade, other than the addition of an enormous amount of sex. She'd noticed early on - before he'd even seemed to realize she existed - that Wade was incredibly possessive of the few people he let near him. His enormous bossiness hadn't ever bothered her, because she saw it for what it was: When he liked someone, he wanted to keep them near, and he assumed no one could do a better job of controlling that than he could. It had driven Heath and Justin absolutely postal, and more than once, too. Both times things had come undone with them, it hadn't been hard to see it coming.

* * *

_Three Years Earlier_

Wade was in it deep. Chandra thought he might know that, but she wasn't sure. _She_ knew it, but she wasn't at all certain he'd appreciate her input on the subject. She wasn't certain even after almost a year what he thought of _anything_ to do with her.

She'd been hearing it from all of them, but from Heath and Justin the most, of course: They were tired of being treated like an extension of his will. She saw Punk for what he was right away: Their way of dealing with the problem. She didn't think Wade was going to like how that was likely to work out.

Punk didn't seem to notice her at all, and she was more than fine with that; he creeped her out. It really wasn't hard for her to escape his notice. She'd never appeared on camera, and was kept carefully secluded when they brought her to the arenas, which wasn't often. She hadn't been a functioning member of Nexus until Wade had made her one.

She'd arrived at the airport wondering what the hell had happened; Heath and Justin were supposed to be on the flight with her, along with two other members, with the rest to arrive a couple of hours earlier. She'd spent the flight alone; none of them were on it.

Wade had been at the airport to meet the flight. He was cursing vividly from the moment she got off the plane alone. "The travel office changed their flight; you can bank on that. They won't be here until after Raw, I'll wager. You wouldn't be here, either, but they apparently still don't know about you." He gave her an assessing look, as if suddenly remembering that she did indeed exist. "That could prove useful."

He was right about their missing membership; it had aborted his plans for that night. He'd set her to the task of making sure that never happened again, and she'd spent the remaining time before everything exploded serving as their travel agent of an unusual kind. What got changed, she changed back, or rearranged to do as much damage control as possible.

She didn't think she could do much about this.

She was furious when it happened, and did little to hide it. Apparently they'd all forgotten that they had contracts entirely due to Wade's planning; when they were tired of him, they'd enlisted Punk to put him out of Nexus. If she could have found Wade that night after it was over, she'd have left with him.

But she hadn't found him, in spite of a lot of trying. That effort apparently had finally caught Punk's attention. She'd have been much better off without it.

She watched with crawling, expanding horror as the initiations were handed out. It didn't dawn on her that she'd been neatly cut off from the four people left she still trusted at least a little, not until the cameras had left following Heath and Justin's refusing to accept their initiation and walking out.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you," Punk said, smiling in a way that made her skin try to walk off her body. "Your initiation will be special. And not for public view, which only seems fair, since you haven't been." He gave her a few seconds for her imagination to run amok, then laid out something even worse than she'd managed to terrify herself with. She could take up a new role as his fucktoy...or take on all of Nexus who'd chosen to stay when they got her back to the hotel. He locked her in a utility closet, so she could think about it in quiet and privacy, he said.

Heath and Justin came back for her, but it took them a long time to find her and break her out of her prison. They left that night, driving all night to get to the Smackdown taping; Wade had asked for and been granted a transfer there. The two of them were full of ideas about how things would work from now on. She thought they'd more likely go on working as Wade intended them to, but she didn't air that opinion.

It was a few days after they'd hammered out the concept of The Corre that Wade took her aside.

"You're thinking of leaving."

It wasn't a question, really, but she treated it as one. "We both got wake-up calls from Punk. I think maybe I should take mine."

"What did he do to you?"

This wasn't the first extended conversation they'd ever had, but it was the first one that was personal in any way. She didn't want to be having it.

"Tell me. You're jumping at every shadow and sound, and you've been since you got here. What did he do to frighten you this badly?"

She told him. It felt like she was ripping the words out of herself, but she did it. It took her a while to recognize the seemingly neutral expression on Wade's face for what it actually was - flat-eyed rage.

"Stay and no one will ever come close to doing anything like that to you again. I promise you that." It was a promise he'd kept - to the best of his knowledge, at least - until the moment the injury had left him unable to any longer.


	8. Chapter 8

"Well, _that_ didn't make me very happy."

Drew laughed. "Me either, lass. But I'm unharmed." Nothing other than his pride, at least. _Pinned by a midget. And isn't life just a lark?_

She brushed a lazy hand over him. "If he'd hurt this, I'd have put my foot up his ass."

"I'd pay good money to see that. Even if it's not a high kick to get it there." He flopped down on the bed and pulled her after. "You must be at least _this_ happy to board this ride." He tapped the end of her nose with a fingertip.

"Did you seriously just boop my nose?"

He laughed. He'd gotten used to Americanisms over the years, but Chandra came equipped with all kinds he'd never heard before. "I did. But not seriously."

She straddled him. Where she settled made him very glad to be uninjured. He reached for her, but she leaned back, smiling. "You just stay put. I'm doing ride maintenance."

He hid a lot behind his smile; she was learning just how much. There was just no way he was _this_ chipper about how the night had gone. Even if he wasn't going to show her he needed it, she intended to make him feel better. She untucked his shirt from his jeans and ran her hands up over his stomach to his chest, pushing the shirt up as she went. She was pretty sure he could spend all day touching him; his body drove her a little bonkers. He sat up enough to get rid of the shirt, then fell back, willing to see where this was going.

She started back at his waist, digging in a little harder, kneading muscles as she worked her way up. He was groaning happily by the time she got to his shoulders. She really dug in there; he carried most of his tension in them. She swayed her hips against him, making figure-eights as she worked.

"Ooh, aye. That's part of the massage, then?"

"Reverse massage. There's one muscle I want good and tense."

She wouldn't have thought it was possible to laugh and moan all at once, but he managed it. She heard the door open, but she was determined to keep her concentration right where it was.

Wade just stood in the doorway shaking his head. Drew appeared to be getting a simultaneous massage and horizontal lap dance from Chandra. _It HAS to be the bloody accent._

When Sheamus had asked him a few days ago what being around the two of them all the time was like, he'd said it was like being trapped in the otter exhibit at the zoo. At playtime. During mating season. But as much as it probably sounded like a complaint, it hadn't been one. Like any self-respecting happy, horny otters, they were quite entertaining.

_Case in point._ He dropped his gear bag and pulled a chair around where he'd have a nice view of the inevitable conclusion of this.

"Not joining us?"

He was surprised Drew was even aware he'd come in. Chandra gave him a sweet and quite enticing smile over her shoulder. "I _do_ have two hands."

True, but she only had one of what he suspected Drew was really needing. "Mmm, later, perhaps. Don't let me interrupt." Not that he thought a direct hit from a nuclear missile would interrupt them right now.

She went on with both parts of the evening's entertainment. She was humming some tune, softly, swaying on him in time to it. It was beyond a lovely sight.

Wade was surprised to see that the massage was a serious one. Drew's body had to be rioting, caught between relaxation and stimulation. He'd thought he might be returning to a very angry Scot; Drew's temper was slow to kindle, but he had a tendency to wreck everything in sight when it caught. That didn't look to be a problem after all.

The massage slowly gave way to pure lap dance. Drew wasn't complaining. Cursing like a docker, yes; complaining, no. He did start complaining when she got up; she just smiled and ran a hand over his leg. "Would you rather stay dressed?"

Rather not, obviously. He shed his trousers himself, which let her take care of her own clothing. It was a reveal Wade always enjoyed; she had a quietly gorgeous body she kept a mystery under nondescript clothing. It was as if it were their little secret what a lovely invitation to riot and indulgence she was.

She got back on top of Drew as soon as she was naked, but sat further back on his legs, close to his knees, contemplating what she was about to take delivery of. Drew was urging her increasingly feverishly to touch him, suck him, ride him, _anything_.

She solemnly tapped the head of his cock with a fingertip. "Boop."

Of all things to do at that moment, Drew broke up laughing. There were times Wade didn't understand them in the slightest. _Many_ times.

That was the last of play, though. She moved back up him and onto her knees, stretching up high enough to get his cock positioned properly against her, then simply settled onto it. Drew made a sound that made Wade think of a Scot making a bad go of speaking Chinese. He reached for her, but she caught his hands and brought them up to her breasts instead. He got the hint, especially when she started that swaying, rocking dance over him again.

It wasn't long before she switched to something a bit more intense. Wade thought, not for the first time, that most erotic thing about watching them was how much she simply and unashamedly loved having Drew's cock in her. He turned the sweet and rather shy girl Wade was most familiar with into an eager wanton.

"Oh my God. Oh, Drew."

_Not bad for him_, Wade thought, smiling. _She's doing all the bloody work._ He could see her orgasm take her, even from across the room. She drenched them both.

Her swaying over Drew was more in the nature of falling over now. Once he realized it, he caught her around the waist and turned them over in a thoroughly otterish tumble. He went right to making up for his earlier laziness. Most of the time, it would have been more than enough to stir Wade from his chair - the urgency of them; the strident, mingled cries of pleasure; those two lovely, enticing bodies twisting and tangling with each other. But sometimes, like now, he wanted the sight of them, the _knowledge_ of them, more than to bed them: To watch their love for each other play out in front of him and to know that because they were his, that was in some way his, as well.


	9. Chapter 9

Wade was used to Drew's way of having ideas: Present it, fully-formed, and wait for the rest of the world to get with the program. So he wasn't really surprised when Drew turned up with a fistful of baseball tickets.

"What's this?"

"We're taking Chandra to a game. She likes baseball."

_How do you know these things and I don't? I've only known her twice as long._ "I suppose I can bear three hours of watching men stand around on the grass."

"I've gotten a surprise together for her. Her favorite player manages one of the teams now. She's going to meet him."

That happened before the game started. She tipped to it when they went into the clubhouse, naturally. That didn't stop her from squealing like a schoolgirl, or jumping up and down like she was on a pogo stick, hands clapped over her mouth. Wade had to admit, it was fairly adorable, and even worth the three hours ahead.

The man wasn't what he'd been expecting, which had been one of two possibilities: A grandfatherly old veteran, or a handsome young man perhaps sidelined early by injuries. The man who stood there grinning a little disbelievingly was no more than in his 40s, but stocky and craggy and not exactly the type to inspire squealing and bouncing. He hugged her before they left; Wade was wondering if they were going to have to carry her out. He was also wondering if the man was at all aware that he wouldn't have to work very hard to have her knickers off.

Wade spent a little time before the game started solving the mystery of exactly who the hell the man _was_. He'd never heard of him; not that he knew thousands of baseball players by name, but most players anyone was likely to name as a favorite, he could at least say he'd heard the name.

If anything, he was more astounded when he was done than when he'd started: Catcher, more or less a career backup player, stats that were repeatedly described as "solid." By the time he got that far, he was thoroughly curious; what the hell was the fascination?

Sometime in the third inning, he surfaced with what he was quite sure was the answer: His stats weren't the only solid thing; he had a reputation for being tough as a mouthful of iron nails...and for being something of a lunatic in the clubhouse. Yes, he could see all this now. Underappreciated, tough, and possibly barking mad. _Drew, whether you know it or not, you're part of a trend. Her eyesight's improved, that's all._

The team the man was managing wasn't "her" team according to Chandra, but it was his, and that was more than good enough for her. Things didn't go well - apparently until she put the sheer force of her will behind it. He looked over to find her doing what for all the world looked like praying. Fervently. Drew was already watching her, and looking amused.

"What are you _doing_, lass?"

"Meditating on the most beautiful words in all of baseball."

"Which are?"

"Walk-off grand slam."

They didn't know it until she explained later, but that was exactly what happened. She vaulted almost vertically out of her seat; Drew caught her, laughing, and held her up as she celebrated. Wade later blamed being caught up in the moment - even if he didn't entirely grasp it - for kissing her while he had her up there. None of them noticed all the phones pointed at them, which he blamed for Drew stealing a kiss of his own from her.

It took about ten minutes. He tossed something up on Twitter about his first baseball game being more entertaining than he'd expected. He was immediately inundated with comments to the effect of _It sure looked like it_ and _Drew looked like he was enjoying it, too_. He dismissed it as the usual weirdness of Twitter until someone thought to attach the photos.

_Oh, bloody hell._ He handed his phone to Drew.

"Well, it could be worse, aye? You could have taken it into your head to kiss _me_."

There _was_ that. He showed Chandra. She went instantly and utterly pale. He did his best to assure her that it would probably just blow over. She didn't appear to believe it any more than he did.

He threw the car keys to Drew. He had the feeling that if a lecture was to be delivered, it would be to him.

It took about half an hour to arrive. _What the hell was THAT?_

_Kissing. It can't be that terrible, can it, no matter how many were involved._

_Congratulations on being the first ones of us to have the word 'threesome' used about them on TMZ._

_Oh, for fucksake. It was two kisses, not DP in the bleacher seats. It's not our fault infants work for that website. Besides, Hogan beat us to the threesome thing, didn't he?_

_He didn't work for us at the time. No, it isn't your fault. But not being more careful IS. Come in Monday before Raw. Bring the girl along._

_Come now, she's a civilian, Hunter. With a life she can't just drop on its arse at no notice._

_Don't bullshit me, Wade. We knew about her. I recognize her._

_She's still a civilian now, regardless._

_Not any more, she isn't. Bring her with you._

Chandra had always had something close to a superstitious dread of the front office noticing her; this wasn't going to make her happy.

She was bright, and a realist when it mattered, though; Wade knew that, so he was expecting her angry, frightened, but resigned acceptance of Hunter's marching orders. She knew as well as they did that they'd pay for it if she refused - and that neither of them, Drew in particular, could afford much more of that.

She apparently decided that didn't mean she had to speak during the meeting/dressing-down, though. She promptly found a spot on the desk and fixed her eyes to it, and got busy waiting it out. She didn't know he and Drew had decided on a united front.

"If you've brought us here to order apologies and public shame, you've wasted your time."

"Oh? And _you're_ telling _me_ what's going to happen now, are you, Wade?"

"To a point, I suppose I am. We'll go on keeping this at home; it was a slip that it's become at all public. But public repudiation and breast-pounding is out of the question. Neither of us is ashamed, and we'll not behave as if we are."

"McIntyre? You're keeping your mouth shut for a change."

"Because he's said nothing I disagree with." He flicked a sideways glance at Wade, mouth quirking with a suppressed smile. "For once."

"And you? I know your face, but I never did find out your name."

Drew had to nudge her before she realized she was being spoken to.

"Chandra."

"And do you have a last name, Chandra?"

Drew thought she looked like she genuinely didn't want to tell him. "Stevens."

"Does the one-word answer thing drive you two crazy, or what?"

"Not so long as _yes_ is still one word."

Hunter just looked at Drew for a few seconds, not looking especially fooled by the look of wide-eyed innocence he was getting back.

"All right. This is what's going to happen. I don't want to know what else is going on here. But you're going to meet the part you decided to share with the world head-on. You two get asked questions, you answer them. How is up to you, as long as you stick to the usual limits on things. You decide to take her to another baseball game, go. It would cause more uproar if you went into hiding than if you face up, thanks to the internet. So you're going to face up. Starting in about an hour. You have a date with a photographer. All three of you."

Chandra turned a shade of pale gray that worried Wade a bit. She didn't protest, but she had to literally bite her lip to keep from it. He saw Drew take her hand and give it a quick squeeze.

They spent the hour before they had to see the photographer trying to settle her down. She did _not_ want to be a public spectacle, and there were no two ways about that. A combination of their preferred ways to calm her worked best: Drew with kisses and murmured assurances, Wade with a reality check.

"It's too late to put the genie back in the bottle, love. Let's put the misty bastard to work for us, then."

"Misty bastard," Drew said, his tone contemplative. "I _will_ find an excuse to call someone that one day."

The photographer picked up on Chandra's nervousness immediately. She took Wade aside and asked if it would be better to try on another day.

"It's not a voluntary assignment. And I don't think it was on her agenda for the week to be outed as being double-teamed nightly." He saw the look on the photographer's face and laughed softly. "So I gather the circumstances weren't explained to you." He took care of that.

"Mmm, all right. So we bump the sex angle right out of it and go for happy compatibility and affection." _And her being the luckiest woman on Earth. Good lord._

"That works. Though you may find that easier to evoke from the two of them."

_Then you don't know about the look in your eyes when you look at them, mister._ She intended to make sure she got hold of that. Sex was off-limits; sexy apparently wasn't, though.

Her first problem was getting the guy with the ungodly hot Scottish accent to stop mugging for the camera; he genuinely couldn't seem to help himself. The girl finally took care of it by dragging him over and sitting him down on a set of staging steps, then settling on the one behind and above him and pulling him back against her, his head nestled just barely below her breasts.

"Take that elastic deal out of his hair, would you?"

Chandra did, finger-combing Drew's hair out of the disorder that caused. The look of profound and rather smug contentment on his face was PG...but only just: _Aye, I'm having her. And it's better than any you'll ever get._

That was it, absolutely. And the Englishman was all about that hungry, possessive expression again, too. "Go sit above her, so she's hitting you about where he's hitting her."

He did. She leaned back into him, echoing what was happening below her, without needing coaxing. Her fingers still fussing with the Scot's hair; the Englishman's hand cupped along her jawline, maybe to tip her head back to say something to her; her half-lidded gaze that probably wasn't PG at all. There it was. They might refuse to use it, but they'd be crazy to.

She caught another, mostly by chance. The Englishman got up to stretch his legs, which were being asked to occupy far too little space for their length in that pose. The Scot took advantage of the break to draw the girl's head down toward his so he could whisper something to her, hand cradling the back of her skull with enormous care. Whatever he was saying must have been good; she looked a bit like a startled kit fox. He, on the other hand, was grinning like an imp, the expression not quite hidden by her hair. Their third standing over them was losing the battle against laughter, which hadn't quite displaced that hungry-possessive thing.

She clicked away like mad, hoping the sound wouldn't break up the moment given they weren't expecting it. _No way he isn't getting some of both of them. And I wouldn't want to be the one to try to take it away from him._

"God, I'd love to shoot the three of you a lot less PG."

The Englishman laughed softly. "I think we're in enough trouble over rogue photographs to go us a few years."

They were all surprised to see both those photos turn up on the website the next day, along with a couple of more tame ones and the ones that caused the whole uproar to start with. Wade was grateful they'd avoided the double-team joke he wasn't able to himself. Sheamus had cheerfully suggested "In Our Heads We're Fucking RIGHT NOW" as a page title, and he was even more grateful no one else had thought of _that_.

* * *

Thanks to angelsdee327 for helping out with photo ideas to get me started!


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